


Give Me Love

by anexorcist



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anexorcist/pseuds/anexorcist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels like a step toward being forgiven. Of being allowed back into Tim’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryssabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryssabeth/gifts).



> The title comes from a song by Ed Sheeran.

Dick pushes him against the door and even though the knob digs into his back, a laugh bubbles out from his lips, and Dick catches it in his mouth.

“Come on, Tim,” he smiles against Tim’s neck, the front of his teeth pressed against pale skin. “If you don’t pick a movie, I will, and I could watch you all night long.”

Tim’s eyes flutter with how good it feels between Dick and the door, how solid Dick’s hands are around his hips. He holds onto Dick’s shoulders and pushes himself up on his tip-toes, trying to think past Dick’s tongue on the side of his neck, his thumb tracing Tim’s Adam’s apple.

When he speaks, it’s like Dick’s pulling the words from him, with his hands, his laugh, his lips, his  _gravity_.

“Anything,” Tim gasps. Dick picks him up under his arms, and his legs automatically wrap around Dick’s waist. “Anything, but -  _ha_  -  _27 Dresses_ ,”

Dick maneuvers expertly around the mess on the floor to his bedroom without any incident. Tim bounces against the bed when Dick drops him. He watches as Dick hovers over him, hurriedly stripping his shirt, his belt, his jeans—  _he’s not wearing any underwear_.

The heat in Tim’s belly goes straight to his groin, and he arches off the bed before Dick even lays a hand on him. Dick pushes his chest down, gently, smiling at Tim’s eagerness like he did when Tim was still Robin and there were things to smile about.

“But  _Tim_ ,” Dick whines, between pushing Tim’s shirt up and peppering kisses on his torso, “that’s a  _classic_.”

“It is  _not_  And you’ve seen it twenty-six times,” Tim says, out of breath as he kicks his pants off. When Dick finally works his shirt off, he meets Tim at the hem and kisses him. Gentle probe of the tongue, parting of the lips. Even the way his teeth nip against Tim’s is tender.

Like  _I missed you_  and  _I’m sorry_  and  _I’m glad you could make it_.

They haven’t had a movie night since. Since  _before_  Damian moved into the Manor.

“One for each dress,” Dick insists.

With Tim gasping for breath between each laugh, Dick easily flips him over. Like this, Tim can’t see the way his face falls when he begins tracing each of his new scars. Some of them are still pink and raised, and Dick doesn’t know where any of them came from.

He can only guess, can only imagine Tim coming home to an empty apartment and having to stitch himself up under dim lamplight.

He covers each one with his hands and presses against them softly, like if he can put enough love and apology into his touch the scars will disappear under Tim’s skin.

“Dick?”

Tim’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and the lack of waver is its own tell. When Dick meets pale, vivid blue eyes, he sees doubt. That hurts more than Dick thought it would.

Instead of looking away, he nudges Tim’s shoulder. Tim easily catches on and turns onto his back, holds himself up with his elbows.

This way, Dick can see him. Can relearn the way his forehead scrunches down and his mouth goes slack. The high color on his cheeks and the curve of the underside of his chin as he tosses his head back.

This is what he didn’t do, Dick realizes. This is what pushed Tim away— his inability, his _refusal_  to just  _look_. All the signs were there. He knows Tim’s tells. He just didn’t  _acknowledge_ them.

But that means Tim can see him, too.

Dick guesses—

That’s not so bad. And if he thinks about it more, he  _wants_  Tim to see his face. He’s always been better at communicating with his body rather than his words.

“We can do this some other time,” Tim offers. “We can just watch  _27 Dresses_  like you wanted—“

“ _This_ ,” Dick kisses the corner of Tim’s mouth. “ _You_  are what I want.”

Tim turns his head to fit his lips between Dick’s. A tongue darts out playfully, and it feels like a step toward being forgiven. Of being allowed back into Tim’s life.

Dick settles his weight against Tim’s body, and they both gasp when their bodies practically melt together at every seam. Somehow, their state of undress had slipped their minds.

“ _God_ ,” Tim groans against Dick’s cheek. His hand travels downward, gripping Dick’s ass and pushing him down while he pushes up off the bed.

It takes every ounce of Dick’s bat-trained control to not just collapse completely against Tim and rut against him. The sensation feels like the first time all over again, and when Tim’s other hand settles against his hip, it feels like a brand.

Dick has Tim lick his palm before reaching between them to grip both of their cocks together. Tim keens and his toes curl, and it makes Dick’s hand stutter like he’s fifteen all over again.

This Tim is all grown up - no trace of the shy, mewling teenager he’d once been. He knows what he wants, and Dick can’t tell if it’s anger or arousal that bubbles in his stomach when he wonders who showed Tim how to  _take_  the things he wanted.

“Come  _on_ ,” Tim urges, when Dick’s hand starts to falter. He places his own hand over Dick’s, and with a couple more quick, hard strokes Dick comes with a loud shout. Tim follows him shortly after, mind and vision blanking out for a second.

When they both come down from their high, their chests no longer heaving for air, Dick presses a kiss to Tim’s temple then his lips as he wipes them off with the sheets.

“Gross,” Tim wrinkles his nose, but he lets Dick clean him up anyway.

After Dick finds a clean blanket, Tim curls up on his side and Dick curls up behind him, wrapping Tim in his arms and legs.

A hand lands on Tim’s forehead, brushing back the hair that’s been plastered there by sweat, and it feels like Tim’s being drawn out of his body through his brain. He leans up against it, dazed and a little sleepy.

“Hey— hey, Timmy, you okay? Hey, can you hear me? Earth to Timbo,” Dick huffs a laugh, and Tim tries to wrap that sound around his mind so he can listen to it forever. Just that small little breath could fill him up for the rest of his life.

“Sometimes you’re all I  _can_  hear.”

Of all the things to say,  _that’s_  the one that comes out of his mouth.

The embarrassment is almost unbearable as a flush rises up his body, even though Dick’s already seen him laid out and completely vulnerable.

Dick chuckles, and Tim can  _feel_  the shake in his shoulders. He can  _feel_  Dick’s thighs flexing against his, and he can  _feel_  Dick going half hard against his back.

Tim gasps and pushes back. His cock jumps at the sound of Dick’s groan, low and almost like a growl. Just a minute ago, he’d been content to melt into the bed until tomorrow, next week, next month, next  _life_.

He didn’t think he’d be so eager and ready so quickly - it hasn’t even been a half hour - but Tim’s not that surprised. He’s been dreaming of doing this again, with Dick, since the first time all those years ago. Now, maybe if Tim stays just as lucky for the rest of his life, he  _can_.

“Sorry,” Dick says, sounding anything but. He ducks his head, teeth scraping the back of Tim’s neck, and Tim can  _feel_  the grin. “You’re just so—  _hot_!”

When Tim looks over his shoulder, Dick’s smile is blinding and golden, loose and lazy. All the things that infuriate Tim and make him fall in love more and more every day.

Dick leans forward and plants a kiss on Tim’s chin. He can’t tell if that’s what Dick was aiming for or if he just missed but—

“So…how about that movie?”


End file.
